Mistletoe
by makotot
Summary: Merry Christmas! Here, have some corny fanfiction. Italy x Germany fluff; I haven't really written anything in a while. Please comment! I do not own Hetalia


The cuckoo clock hanging in the living room had just signified that it was noon.

"Ve!" Italy cheered happily, swinging his arms and decorating the house. He had woken up a while ago by Germany yelling at him to get out of his bed, and had quickly complied, wanting to avoid the pain that was sure to come if he stayed. It was Christmas Eve, and the German wanted to sleep in for a while. The Italian, though, was cheerful as ever, skipping through the rooms and hanging various Christmas themed items wherever he could, while Japan worked in the kitchen. The smells of the meal to come filled Italy's nose as he hooked bright silver tinsel on the walls and small golden plastic stars on the ceiling. He skidded back into the living room, hanging one last ornament on the Christmas tree, stepping back to admire his work with a grin. He was almost done, just one more item he needed to hang. Mistletoe. Laughing, he pulled a bag of the small white berries out of his pocket, and started on another adventure throughout the house, hanging it in every doorway. He also hung one just outside Germany's door, and then knocked excitedly.

"Hey, Germany! Come on, get up! It's Christmas!" A frustrated sigh was heard, followed by some rustling. Germany opened the door, already showered and dressed.

"Dummkopf, I was about to come out..." He paused as he noticed the plant dangling in front of his face, then glanced down at Italy, who was smiling expectantly. "W-what is this?" He asked, turning slightly with a small blush on his face.

"Aw, come on, Germany! It's tradition! One kiss won't hurt, right?" The blonde glanced back down at the brunette, who had his face turned, waiting for him to follow the tradition. Debating on whether or not he should just beat the idiot, Germany decided against it. 'It's just one kiss on the cheek...' He leaned down and planted his lips on Italy's cheek, pulling back and clearing his throat.

"Alright, are you happy now?"

"Ve!" Italy cheered, before grabbing Germany's hand and skipping down the halls. "Come on! Japan's in the kitchen making dinner! And he promised he'd let me make my pasta!" Germany sighed, following the cheery man to the kitchen, where he stopped abruptly at the entrance. The German hit his head on the wall, then stood back, groaning.

"Italy, what is it?" He opened one eye, and then the other, seeing said man waiting underneath...more mistletoe. "Again?" He glared at Italy, but still complied, leaning down and kissing his cheek once more. Italy laughed, continuing into the kitchen.

"Hey, Japan!"

"Oh, hello, Italy, and Germany. I was just making some nikujaga. Would you like to join me?"

"Yeah! I want to make pasta!" Italy ran around the kitchen gathering his ingredients, and Germany did the same to make his wurst. The three countries stood together, each making their separate foods. Italy kept the room cheerful by singing Christmas carols and letting out a happy yell when he was done. He stored the meals away, saving them for dinner. He then checked on the turkey Japan had prepared and placed in the oven earlier. It was far from done, but was starting to turn light brown. "Ah, I can't wait for dinner tonight!"

"The feeling is mutual," Japan let one of his rare smiles show, and Germany let out a short laugh through his nose.

Throughout the rest of the day, Italy followed Germany around the house, getting a mistletoe kiss on two other occasions. Once outside the dining room, and another by the bathroom. On the next occasion where the mistletoe tradition called for their attention, the German let out an exasperated groan.

"This is the fifth time today! Where is this mistletoe coming from?!" Italy just laughed sheepishly, and Germany sighed once more, leaning down to kiss him again, but the Italian beat him to it, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. Germany reeled back, his face warm.

"Haha, got you!" Italy sang. The blonde just turned away. "What's wrong, Germany?"

"Why do you keep doing this?" He asked quietly. Italy looked up at him innocently.

"What do you mean? You deserve to be kissed!" He smiled, a more gentle smile than his usual one.

"W-what?" Germany glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, seeing the same gentle smile still on his face.

"You deserve to be told I love you every morning and every night...and kissed every second, of every minute, of every hour, of every day." Italy looked away somewhat shyly, then laughed nervously. "This may be awkward, but... I love you." When silence was his response, he glanced up curiously. "Germany?" The blonde was blushing furiously, and tears were in the corners of his eyes. "A-ah! Don't cry, Germany! Please?"

"I-I'm not crying, dummkopf..." He turned away, closing his eyes. "Italy... Ich liebe dich." The Italian's face lit up immediately.

"Ti amo, Germany, ti amo!" He threw himself at his tall friend, wrapping his arms around him in a hug, laughing while the German made a series of disgruntled noises. Japan, who had watched the whole affair from inside the living room, snapped a picture on his camera.

"Cute..."

The End


End file.
